The Prideless
by shinytinfoil
Summary: The story of a Nietzschean woman named Lex. 1st person, for a refreshing twist. Rating just in case I use bad words.
1. Lex

Title: The Prideless  
  
Pairings: Tyr/Lex. Slight Dylan/Rommie, Harper/Trance, but it's not the main focus. No Beka/Charlemagne, even though in reality, James Marsters made my list of Top Ten Most Perfect Guys. Keith Hamilton Cobb is number two. There is no way you can say he is not the most perfect guy you have ever seen, aside from Orlando Bloom without the blond wig.  
  
Disclaimer: Why would you sue me? Really? I'm a fourteen year old Freshman who has resorted to writing fan fiction since I have no chance in hell with Keith, and you have to remind me YET AGAIN that he doesn't belong to me. Neither do the rest of the Andromeda cast, though I do own the Destruction of Illusions book and ten episodes on DVD. Does that count for anything?  
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Oddly, when an armored Jaguar vessel intercepted my ship, the first thing I thought was, It's about time. I had been smuggling their goods out from under their noses for five months now, and they had been pretty much clueless about the whole thing. I even smuggled two of Charlemagne's personal concubines out of system, just to prove to my Than partner, Temptations of Sky, that I could.  
  
But now was not the time for inner gloating. I unstrapped myself from the pilot's chair and hit the shipwide emergency signal, the high pitched beeping making me wince, as I knew it would the boarding party. The Jaguar don't kill right out, not when they can torture you first. Quickly, my fingers flying over the console, I erased my ship's memory, eradicating all information about Sky and my other contacts. Then I shut off the AG field generators.  
  
I kept a tight grip on the bar near my head as my feet lifted off the deck, at least until I got one boot hooked around another bar near the floor. The Pariah's Secret, as I had christened my livelihood, hadn't originally been equipped with an AG field. Or weapons, or a slipstream drive. No, my ship had begun life as a planet-to-moon cargo vessel, freighting inorganic supplies from Calypso Prime to it's moon observatory. Then I stole it, and added everything nessicary for a functional intersystem cargo vessel, just for the sheer pleasure of building a ship from scratch. But the Pariah still had the handbars for easy movement during freefall.  
  
I felt the shudder of contact as the Jaguar vessel latched onto my hull, scowling as I heard the docking clamps squeak. I needed to get those fixed, but oh well. I pulled my gauss gun out of it's thigh holster and flicked it to a medium setting. With luck, I would incapacitate the boarders, not kill them. The Pariah needed a new AP valve, and the ransom money would more than pay for it.   
  
There was hiss as the airlock opened, and I heard cursing as they realized there was no gravity. I allowed myself a momentary grin before shooting around the corner at the airlock, needing less than a second to line my target up. One down.  
  
The remaining three or four shot back, but by then I was safely behind the wall again, unable to control the grin as the sound of their return fire shot adrenaline into my system, my boneblades bristling instinctivley. I waited.  
  
The firing stopped, and instantly I was out again, firing off two shots at once, taking down two more Jaguars. But the precious time I took lining that second shot up was just a little too much, and I took a stunbolt in the shoulder. The last thing I remember is mentally berating myself for getting cocky, then my vision swam black.  
  
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I woke up some time later, head and shoulder aching, and was distressed to find myself tied to a chair with energy-sucking plasma coils.  
  
"Awake, are we?" an all-too-familiar drawled. I brought my head up to meet the blue eyes of Charlemagne Bolivar himself. Dammit. Could this get any worse?  
  
It could. The Arch-duke of Jaguar Pride stepped closer and lifted my chin in his hand, brushing away a lock of my brown hair almost lovingly. My skin crawled at the contact and it took all my will-power not to flinch away and get sapped by the plasma coils. I let my pent-up energy flame into my eyes, which by all rights should have lit the pompus blond fop's head on fire, if looks could kill. Oh, if they could.  
  
"So, my favorite purple-eyed female has been double-crossing us, have we?" He sounded faintly amused and I twitched in indignation. "What shall I do with you, my little rogue?" He bent down and set his lips to mine, and I barely supressed the instinct to kick him in a very tender place. I settled, instead, for savagely biting his lower lip.  
  
He jerked away, one hand over his mouth. I spat his blood out on the floor next to his expensive leather shoes. "Kill me," I told him. Please. Anything but staying in this room with this parody of a Nietzschean male, so pale and thin and weak. Pride Jaguar's men had long ceased to possess anything resembling physical strength, supposedly focusing on the mental abilities. Though, if their Arch-duke was any indication, their mental stature left something to be desired. Bolivar had to have know that he couldn't just kiss me like that without suffering some sort of bodily harm, no matter how tightly he tied me up.  
  
Two other Jaguars, apparently Bolivar's honor guard, chuckled at their leader's foiled attempt. In an attempt to regain respect and composure, he snarled his next two sentences. "You have two choices, Polaris. You can agree to mate with me and father my children, or," his voice softened dangerously, "You can spend the rest of your life in one of our re-education centers."  
  
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I didn't even consider it. While my instincts told me to have children, prolong my genetic heritage, I knew that any children fathered by Charlemagne Bolivar wouldn't be worth acknowledging. They might even be blond and blue-eyed.  
  
So I was escorted to a re-eductation center as two medics fixed Bolivar's lip, which, turns out, I had bitten clean through. There was no chance of escape, since I had six armored guards around me, some of which were probably non-organics doctored up to look like Jaguars, all carrying guns the size of my arm that probably didn't have a stun setting.   
  
Let me take a moment to explain the term "re-education center" for those of you who've been living under a rock your whole lives. The idea is, lock 'em up and forget about them. Well, the Jaguars take that idea to the extreme. The facility more resembles a dog pound than a prison. They literally lock the prisoners up in tiny little cells and leave them there to rot away. They only feed them because starvation kills them too fast. You get the picture.  
  
My cell was probably four feet square, set on top of another cell, which was empty. They stuffed me in and locked the door, then stamped out before to had a chance to orient myself.  
  
"Welcome," a dry voice said from across the aisle. I pulled myself into a cross-legged position and looked over. A withered old man gazed back, little more than skin loosely draped on bone. He offered me an ironic smile.  
  
I returned it. "I feel welcome."  
  
"What'd you do?"  
  
I snorted. "Arch-duke Bolivar doesn't take rejection very well."  
  
He cackled. "Atta girl. Glad to see at least one female knows bad genetic material when she sees it. The name's Simon." He offered me a salute instead of a handshake.  
  
I grinned. "I'm Lex."  
  
"Good to see a pretty face every now and then," he said with the toothless grin of an old man. "Bolivar so rarely locks up the females."  
  
"Yeah, well. I bloodied him in front of his men. He had to."  
  
Simon cackled again and I sighed inwardly, not especially looking forward to spending the rest of my life listening to that dry, weezing laugh.  
  
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Okay, guys. Tell me what you think. The Andromeda peeps will show up in the next chapter, never fear. Now review! I want lots of feedback. I know it sounds cliche when I say it's what keeps me writing, but it really is! If you don't review, I sink into a depression and don't post the next chapter because I'm too busy being depressed...  
  
Note: I have nothing against blond/blue-eyed people. I am a blond/blue-eyed person! Lex just has her opinions about things. Don't let her offend you. 


	2. A Captain, Andd Android, And A God

Author's Note: Here you go! Chapter Two. Enjoy and review when you finish.  
  
Disclaimer: Maybe I DO own Andromeda. You'll never know.  
  
Disclaimer 2: Yeah right.  
  
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Countless days later, the door swung open and I shot upright, peering at the visitors. There were three, not counting the Jaguar drone we were supposed to refer to as Warden, an average height human male with piercing gray eyes, an extremely pretty woman with red highlights in her raven-wing hair, and one of the biggest Nietzschean males I had ever seen. Well over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and arms the size of my waist, he brought up the rear, carrying a gun that made the Jaguars' guns look like toys. Before he even entered the room, he swept his eyes around to spot potential threats, and I shivered as his dark eyes ran over me, thinking, Wow.  
  
Apparently seeing no obvious danger, he stepped across the thresh hold.  
  
Instantly the door slammed shut behind him, something that was obviously not supposed to happen, judging from the look on Warden's face. Then I saw the complex wiring of a good old-fashioned C-4 explosive on the door.  
  
Warden rushed forward, apparently to hit the bomb with his buzz baton, which would instantly detonate the device, and I stuck an arm out to try and grab him, but he was out of reach. Problem solved by the god-like Nietzschean, who back-handed him in the throat as he passed. Warden went down and stayed down, windpipe more than likely crushed, and I couldn't supress a slight smile. Ding, dong, the Warden's dead.  
  
The woman moved forward to touch the device cautiously. "A fairly simple explosive," she said over her shoulder. "It'll only take-" She dropped like a stone, a faint whirring noise accompanying her, and I realized that she must be an android. Damn, whoever built her was good. I would've sworn she was organic.  
  
The gray-eyed human rushed to her side. "Rommie!" he shouted, trying to shake her awake, but no no avail.  
  
"She's out," I said. Both men turned to look at me. "Probably some kind of specialized nano-bots, to keep mechanicals from disfusing it. So few organics know about those old bombs."  
  
The god's lips quirked. "And I suppose you're one of the few?"  
  
My eyes flashed in amusement. "You suppose right."  
  
"Do you mind telling us how?" the human snapped, obviously worried about the android.  
  
I moved forward to grip the bars of my cell. "Let me out of here and I'll do it for you." I allowed a hint of seduction to creep into my voice. Behind the two men, Simon mouthed Atta girl at me. I glanced at the android. "I'll even fix her for you."  
  
"You can do that?" One look at the human's face showed he was willing.  
  
The god, however, protested. "Dylan, look at this logically. We don't know who she is, or why she's here. She could be lying about her abilities." He stopped and took a breath. "That said, I think we should do it. Neither of us knows anything about that kind of explosive."  
  
The human slowly nodded. "Okay." He fired his forcelance at the keypad to my cell, and the door shot open so fast it created a breeze.  
  
I unfolded and dropped to the floor, wincing as my left leg collapsed underneath me, the calf muscle knotted tight. Supporting myself with one hand against the wall, I massaged the cramped muscle with the other, biting my lip to keep from yelping.  
  
"Any day now," the god said, eyes fixed impatiently on me.  
  
I shot him a glare. "We got time." I glanced at the bomb. "It won't detonate for another twenty minutes. And besides," the calf loosened as much as it was going to, and I walked over to pick up Warden's buzz baton where it had fallen. "I'm going to fix your 'bot first."  
  
The god snorted. "With a buzz baton?"  
  
"With a buzz baton and the power cell from your forcelance." The "your" was directed at the human, who hesitated but unscrewed his weapon.  
  
"Who are you, anyways," he asked as he watched me handle the live power cell with my bare hands.  
  
I smiled tightly, attention focused on the cell. "Alexandria Amicus of Polaris Pride. Call me Lex. And you?" I peeled back a strip of the synthetic skin on the android's arm- it even felt real- and waited for his response, studying the complex circuitry hidden by the skin.   
  
"My name is Dylan Hunt, Captain of the Starship Andromeda Ascendant." I recognized the name, but didn't show it. "This is my weapons officer, Tyr Anasazi." He gestured at the god, who nodded.  
  
Then frowned. "Polaris Pride is no more."  
  
"Neither is Kodiak," I reminded him, just as I plugged the power cell into the arm and laid the tip of the baton at the base of the android's skull. She- for I couldn't call her it, not when she looked so alive- began to twitch and emit sparks. I watched carefully, then laughed in triumph as I pulled the cell away, swithcing off the baton with my thumb.  
  
For a moment, nothing happened. Then the android's eyes rolled over to lock with Dylan's. "What happened?" she asked, hand going to the back of her skull.  
  
"You got knocked out by nano-bots," I said, carefully molding her arm skin back into place.  
  
The avatar frowned at me. "Who are you?"  
  
"I'm Lex." I dropped the power cell into the pocket of my baggy pants and pushed up off the floor. As an afterthought, I picked up the baton and snapped it in half in a 'so-there' gesture. We'd see if it left any more marks on my arm.  
  
Suddenly, the bomb began to emit a series of high-pitched beeps. I hurried to it, searching through the wires as the beeping got faster, my heart beat increasing with it.  
  
I felt Tyr's presense at my side, and it distracted me briefly. "I thought you said we had twenty minutes!" he yelled directly in my ear.  
  
"The nano-bots must've triggered it!" I yelled back, snapping back to work. I found a thick black wire. "Knife!" I yelled. He handed me his boot knife and I sliced the wire. The beeping stopped.  
  
"Is it over?" Tyr asked, hand reaching for the door controls.  
  
"No!" I grabbed his wrist. "I just turned the main detonator off. There's another one triggered by the door." I realized with a start that where boneblades should have been there were round patches of scar tissue. Without meaning to, I ran a finger over the scars. "If you don't mind my asking, what happened to your blades?"  
  
Apparently he did mind my asking, for he jerked his wrist out of my grip. "I don't know," he said gruffly.  
  
Clearly he expected more conversation about it, but I simply raised my eyebrows and turned my attention back to the bomb. "If I clip the battery to the circuit wire-" I muttered to myself.  
  
"What?" Tyr asked. Damn. He was still standing uncomfortably close. I debated stepping on his toe, but decided against it. That was a really big gun.  
  
"Nothing." I could try to explain it to him, but he wouldn't understand. "Can I borrow your com-unit?"  
  
"Sure." He pulled the hand-sized unit out of his back pocket and handed it to me. "It won't work in here." The Jaguars had included jamming signals as part of their security.  
  
"I just need a couple of components." I pryed the unit apart with the knife and removed the parts I needed, clipping them onto the various wires until the god's- no, Tyr's, I had to stop thinking about him that way- brow was wrinkled in confusion.  
  
"Here goes," I said, and, drawing a breath, I held it as I cut a wire. For a moment, Tyr held his breath with me. Then I let my breath out with a whoosh and slapped Tyr in the stomach, forcing him to exhale.  
  
I grinned to myself, pleased. "Shall we?"  
  
Dylan pulled the andriod- Rommie- to her feet, though I'm pretty sure she didn't need the help. "I think we shall."  
  
I shook hands with Simon, who wouldn't be living much longer anyways and would thus impede my survival and his own. "Too bad you gotta go," he said solemly. "This place'll be a whole lot uglier without you." I laughed and kissed him on the cheek, making him fall back, pretending to faint. Grinning, I walked back to the door and pulled the dead power cell out of my pocket. I plugged it into the door panel and the nano-bots, which had collected in the power cell, transfered themselves into the mechanics of the door, which unlocked and slid back.  
  
Instantly, a hail of gunfire greeted at us. Tyr and the others dove to the left, where they could return fire from behind a stack of crates, but I slid to the right, down an alley way, and got away. I ran towards the docking bay, trying to convince myself I had done the right thing. With three strangers, my chances were slim. We were a big group, and a big target, since the bomb and the weapons fire had obviously been meant for them, since Charlemagne had no reason to try to blow me up or shoot me, seeing as he thought he'd killed me by locking me up like that. Well, ha to him. I grinned and imagined his rage at finding me gone. Wished I could witness it.  
  
The docking bay was relatively unguarded, which meant they hadn't counted on the others making it out of the re-education center and past their guard fire. Arrogant idiots. Oh well, one man's stupidity is one escaped convict's ticket home. I dodged a couple of incompetent guards- supposedly incompetent because their dna was inferior, which was why they got stuck with guard duty- and headed towards the best looking vehicle, a Highguard slipfighter I was pretty sure belonged to either Dylan or Tyr. There was another one, so they still had a ride out.  
  
They had stuck a lock on the pilot's controls, but that was easily removed, as was the homing device on the hull. I cracked the ignition sequence after two tries and then took off, shooting up into the low-lying clouds of the Jaguar homeworld.  
  
I was impressed with the fighter's manveuverability and speed, zipping through a couple of low orbits before bringing it up out of the atmosphere. My sensors picked up a firefight nearby, and, feeling restless, I went to investigate, flipping my comm on to all frequencies in case I heard something important.  
  
The fight was between one cargo ship and about a dozen Jaguar fighters. The cargo ship reminded me of the Pariah's Secret, which should tell you what kind of shape it was in, and I felt like pounding some Jaguar behind.  
  
I destroyed two ships before they noticed I was there, and when they did, the slipfighter easily evaded their missiles. I dodged between two ships, and they both fired at me, destroying one another. "Intelligent Jaguars my ass," I remarked over the comm, moving into a barrel roll that took me right past one ship's fuel tanks, which was too much of a big fat target to pass up. Five ships down, seven to go.  
  
The voice of Charlemagne Bolivar crackled through the line. "Jumped-up Prideless bitch!" he snarled. "I should have killed you."  
  
I smiled sweetly, even though he couldn't see it. "Hi, Charlie. How's the lip? Do we have a scar?" My tone didn't betray my anger, which I took out on three more ships, destroying them all in one smooth 360. I hoped he did have a scar, just for insulting me like that. I'll show him jumped-up Prideless bitch...  
  
"When I get my hands on you...!" Charlemagne stopped, so I filled in the gap.  
  
"You'll what? Tie me to another chair and get another facial injury? Lock me up in another re-education center?" I pretended to be shocked and terrified at the thought. Another ship blew up in front of me, and I shifted the clutch slightly, then rolled through the edge of the explosion to nail another one.  
  
"Get with the program, Charlie-baby. I'm smarter and a hell of a lot faster than you are, obviously. Why don't you get back to that Sabran hussy of yours and try to produce yourself an heir smart enough to actually kill me. Though with your genes, I doubt it's possible." Bold words, but I was running on adrenaline and hey, the bastard deserved every insult I could dish out. And then some. The next ship almost got me with a smart missile, but I blew it up, then blew the ship up. Both mushroomed beautifully.   
  
"A piece of advice, Charlie-baby. When Elsbett finally does give birth, you'd better make sure it's yours." I rode the wave of Charlemagne's yell straight at the last ship, which blew up just as obiediantly as the others had. Then I cut off Charlemagne's frequency and located the cargo ship's.  
  
"You guys okay?"  
  
"Fine," Tyr's voice sounded annoyed.  
  
I laughed. "That's twice now, Anasazi. How do you like them apples?" I began to describe lazy circuits around the cargo ship, which was chugging towards the nearest slippoint. I understood Tyr's annoyance at having his butt save twice- by a female, no less. And I liked being able to annoy him.  
  
A female voice came over the comm-line now. "Slipfighter, Captain Hunt asks that you set a course for the Invictus system." Whoever she was spoke the formal words with a hint of sarcasm, indicating either a dislike of the order or a dislike of being ordered.   
  
"Copy that," I replyed, entering the coordinates. The Invictus system, if I remembered correctly, was a yellow dwarf star surrounded by several uninhabited planets. Must be a rendevous point. "See you there." I jumped to slipstream a second before them, and used the gut-wrenching journey to try and figure out my next move. I should try and find a way to contact Sky and look around to see what they'd done with the Pariah. Get back in business, keep flying. See if the Captain would give me the slipfighter as a thank-you present. I sniffed. Take a shower.  
  
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Note: I know nothing about bombs. Next chapter as soon as it gets done! The more reviews the faster I work! 


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